Old Nightmares Awake
by o1ysoserious1o
Summary: It's Tuesday morning after a long weekend, and the Jump Street gang encounter an old acquaintance. I do not own anything.
1. Chapter 1

"Who is he?" Doug asked as soon as Judy walked into Jump Street Chapel Tuesday morning. He and Tom were waiting for her at her station, Doug standing with his arms crossed and Tom sitting on the desk with his feet in the chair. They both had identical looks of scolding on their faces.

Judy couldn't help but crack a smile at their outfits. Tom wore a bandana around his head, with rags for clothes and more than a hint of 5-o-clock shadow. Doug was dressed simlarly, but instead of any headdress, his mullet was pulled back into ponytail behind his head. The two of them looked absolutely ridiculous.

"The McQuaids?...Again?" she asked incredulously as she walked over and set her bag next to the younger of the two brothers.

Tom raised a finger, ignoring the question. "Don't try to change the subject, young lady," he said sternly.

Judy looked from one to the other and sighed. "Okay, I give in. What are you two talking about?"

"Like you don't know," Doug replied, narrowing his eyes.

Tom cleared his throat as if preparing to give a performance, holding a post-it note like a script in front of him. "Judy, I had fun last night, let's do it again real soon. Dick." He added his own derogatory voice effect, making the content of the note seem even more ridiculous.

"You read my messages?!? And his name is Jack, not Dick," she said, tearing the paper from Tom's hand and reading it herself.

"He sounded like a 'Dick'," Tom muttered, earning him a backhanded slap in the shoulder.

"Well, when you didn't show up for work two hours ago, we got worried and needed to know if you were okay," Doug whined, and he and Tom both stuck out their bottom lips in a pout, Tom still rubbing his arm.

"Oh, bull. Besides, I don't believe it's any of your business," she countered, slapping the sticky note onto Doug's forehead and rolling the chair out from Tom's feet. This took him by surprise, and he lost his balance on the desk, crashing to the floor ungracefully.

Judy pretended not to notice him as she sat and scooted her chair past him to her desk. Doug helped his partner up, and there was a flicker of hope in Judy's mind that their injured pride would prevent any further badgering. Of course it wouldn't.

Doug wondered exactly why Judy was being so defensive about this guy. Neither him nor Tom (that he knew of) had heard anything about a Jack before today, so it couldn't have been too serious or there would have been evidence, like previous phone calls or flowers or song grams...Something!

Tom seemed altogether uninjured by his fall, but his face was red with embarrassment.

"I don't see anything wrong with being concerned about a fellow officer, Detective," Doug said coldly, using the title to impersonalize the situation.

Judy paused at his tone to look at them, and their hurt must have been evident in their faces, because she sighed in frustration and slammed the folder she was looking through down onto her desk. "Look, I don't have time for your jealousy," she raised a finger to stop Tom's protest, "...or whatever it may be. I appreciate the concern, boys, but Fuller knew where I was and he gave me a few hours off to-"

Doug was right behind Tom as they pushed through the chapel to the Captain's office.

Tom pushed through the door without knocking, which he immediately regretted.

Fuller glared from behind his desk at the young officer, but the pair of eyes that bore the deepest hole in him were those of the man sitting in front of the Captain's desk.

Doug followed Tom in, not pausing to look around as he began his rant about never getting "a couple extra hours off in the morning for a killer hangover, but Hoffs gets time off for a sleepover!"

Tom elbowed his partner in the side, whose anger at being interrupted quickly gave way to a solemn silence as he too saw who was with them.

Fuller, satisfied that both of his officers were now aware of the company, stood and motioned at the man. "Hanson, Penhall, you both remember Mr. Bill Weckerly."


	2. Chapter 2

The last time Tom had seen Mr. Weckerly had been at Kenneth's funeral a year ago. But nothing in that whole year had done anything to change his look of sadness and anger toward the officer, nor did the time do anything to alleviate Tom's guilt. A wave of fault crashed into him.

Doug, having never officially met the man since he never knew Kenny nor went to his funeral, extended a hand. "Mr. Weckerly," he said in a greeting, but his formalities were ignored by everyone, the tension in the air too thick to penetrate.

"Mr. Weckerly and I were just about to discuss why he was here," Captain Fuller said coolly. When no one moved, he cleared his throat shortly, and Tom and Doug were forced to look at him. "You two sit." He waited as the two McQuaid brothers made their way to the couch in the corner of the room.

Weckerly tore his gaze from Tom. "I wasn't sure if coming here was the best idea. I didn't want to involve this program again, especially not the same officers." He was making it very clear as to who he meant, and Doug didn't like it at all.

Tom had already suffered many a sleepless night from that one incident, and now it was all weighing down on him again. Doug saw his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw clench from the little bit of the downturned face he could see. He was not going to let such an insult be thrown at his friend, especially not without retaliation.

He scowled and stood, swelling in size until he was a bear in comparison to Tom. "Mr. Weckerly, I don't know you that well, and frankly I don't care to. But what gives you the right to come in here and insult _my_ partner when he risked so much to try to help _your_ son?!?" he bellowed, causing even Fuller to flinch.

Weckerly remained seated, too afraid standing would elicit a more agressive response. However, his fear didn't keep him from yelling back, "In case you forgot, Officer, your friend is the reason my son is dead!"

Doug stepped forward, shouting, "Your son is dead because you put him in that awful place to begin with!"

The room grew silent, and both Doug's and Weckerly's faces were red with fury.

Tom couldn't take it anymore. He jerked his partner's sleeve, pulling him to the couch and shooting him a look that clearly said to leave it alone.

Doug sat flabbergasted for a moment, but he eventually cooled off and obeyed his friends wishes. He sat back and clamped his mouth shut, but it was obvious he was still fuming.

Fuller had been leaning back in his chair and had done absolutely nothing to stop the argument. Personally, he had been livid with Officer Hanson for disobeying his orders to let it alone. But if there was something he hated more than having his authority ignored, it was having his officers and program inslulted. It was true that Hanson had suffered greatly in the few days he was undercover there. When they finally found him, he was at a mental hospital, curled up on a bed and passed out. It took him a few days to get back to normal, and there were still light scars on his wrists where the manacles were locked so tight that they cut into his skin.

Of course, the suffering was more than just physical. The mental aspects of it were still with him. He had blamed himself for Kenny's death, saying that he had a chance to get the kid out but decided to wait. Doug and Fuller had thought he had stopped blaming himself by now, but now that the situation had been resurfaced, the Captain now observed that he had not. Tom sat with his head hung and shoulders hunched as if he were a child being slapped for being bad.

The fact that Penhall had been so quick to defend Hanson made Fuller proud, and if the younger officer hadn't stopped him, Fuller had a feeling that Bill Weckerly would have to be escorted out by an ambulance.

"Mister Fuller-"

"Captain," Doug corrected shortly.

"_Captain_ Fuller," Weckerly restated without looking at Doug. "I came today not to lay the blame on anyone, but to...well, to ask for your help."

Tom finally lifted his head to look at the man, confusion dominating his features. Doug's face had a similar expression, but he was more angry than anything else at the moment. "Why the hell would we help you?"

"Doug," Fuller warned, though Weckerly didn't seem to hear the malicious comment.

"My son's death was hard on us all, but not so much as it was on my daughter, Noreen. She and Kenny grew close after his first arrest, a "common enemy" thing: me, unfortunately. When he died, she felt so alone in the world and despite my efforts, she found solace in the wrong places, and with the wrong things."

Tom remembered Noreen, the beautiful teenager that had come to him, pleading for him to help her brother. Hearing that she was in trouble, though, worried him in the strangest way.

"She got involved in drugs, and now I sometimes don't see her for days at a atime. Then she comes home at 4 a.m., completely stoned. She dropped out of school a week ago, which I only found out when the school called wondering where she had been for the past few days. She came home yesterday, and it broke my heart to see her...in that condition. She needs help." He turned suddenly to Tom, his face no longer angry or sad, but pleading. "She's never been afraid to come to you for help, and you were her shoulder at Kenny's funeral. If anyone can help her, Officer Hanson, as much as I hate to say it, it's you."

Fuller slammed his fist down onto the desk. "Mr. Weckerly, after all fo this, you still have the audacity to come in here and ask for our help?!"

Tom's voice, quieter than everything else that had been spoken since they had congregated, was the loudest of them all. "I'll do it."


	3. Chapter 3

The three of them stared at Tom. It had been the first three words he'd spoken, and the last ones they expected to come out of his mouth.

Doug was the first to break the long silence. "Tommy, you can't possibly consider doing this," he said, a little hurt that his friend would betray him after receiving such a defense.

Tom just stared his partner in the eye. Fuller, however, wasn't going to buy it. "Hanson, you don't owe this man anything!" He turned to Weckerly and screamed, "Get the hell out of my office! You came here to insult my officers and then guilt them into-"

Tom stood suddenly, commanding the attention of the room. "Captain, I said I'd do it. Not because of anything he said while he's been here, or anything that happened in the past, but because he's right. Noreen and I...Well, we knew each other. She was the one who confided the trust in me to save her brother, and even though I couldn't do that, I think she was the only one that didn't hold me responsible. Maybe her trust with me wasn't ruined then. Maybe I AM the only one who can help her, and if that's the case, then I am going to do everything possible to make sure she gets it."

Doug had never heard Tom be so assertive with a case. Then again, none had really been as personal as this one, except maybe the one with Kenny himself, or that time at the club with his old girlfriend. Neither had been the source of an actual case, one just a side note, the other a mission partaken on his own time.

Fuller had been thinking similar thoughts, except this time, the safety of his officer was in mind. He too had noticed the same headstrong attitude that he had seen a year ago, when he had denied Hanson the opportunity to find out more about Weckerly and his son's imprisonment. He felt strongly against letting Hanson take the case, but at the same time, he knew that if he didn't allow him to, then the officer would take matters into his own hands. That was the thing about Hanson. When he made his mind about something, it would take nothing short of dying to keep him from accomplishing it. Few knew it about him save Fuller and Penhall. Fuller wasn't even sure Tom knew it about himself.

After a long while of everyone just staring at each other, and the Captain furrowing his brows in thought, he sighed in defeat. "Alright, Hanson. If it's something you really want to do...Please, you two give me a minute alone with Mr. Weckerly."

Tom waited for the older McQuaid to fall in behind him, who was silent from trying to peice together what had just happened, and they exited the office together.

Fuller stood and walked around the desk, and before Weckerly could comprehend what was about to happen, he was thrown up against the file cabinet, held off of the ground by two powerful arms. The Captain's strength was unexpected, hidden underneath his uniform but now painfully evident to Weckerly. The look on the face in front of him was murderous. "I understand you lost a son, Mr. Weckerly, and really, you do have our sympathy." Fuller leaned forward until he was no more than an inch away and whispered, "But if you end up turning whatever happens back onto my officer again, I will personally see to it that you will be locked up for life. Because if there is anything I hate more than murderers that are caught, it's someone who can think they can hide something from the law. I have a good bit of dirt on you, Mr. Weckerly, and if my officer has to suffer the same way he did before, than I will make sure you suffer twice as much. Is that clear?" The uncanny calm of his voice sent chills down Weckerly's spine, and it was a moment before he could nod his head in conformation.

"Good," Fuller said and let the man drop. He walked back over to his desk and grabbed a packet of papers. "I need you to fill these out and sign them. Information, where your daughter was last seen, where you think she is, all that good stuff. Then you'll need to sign this," he handed him a separate sheet of paper, a waver form of sorts. Weckerly looked at it and chuckled. "You want me to sign something that clearly says I can't hold you responsible? That's ridiculous!"

"Sign it nonetheless, or you can forget ever seeing your daughter again, because we won't help you." Fuller walked around his desk and sat. "If there is nothing else you need at the moment, I suggest you get working on signing those forms, Mr. Weckerly. There is a room you can use just outside. Get one of the workers to show you to it." And with that, he pushed Mr. Weckerly's presence out of his mind, ignoring him and completely oblivious to him as he moved out of the room and into the busy chapel.

So far, so good. If he could keep Hanson on the case until Noreen was found, in whatever condition, then they could drop the case and be safe from any law suits, as well as Weckerly's guilt trip. Fuller figured he had scared him enough to keep him off of Hanson, who at the moment was scaring both his partner and captain with his sudden change in emotion. He'd have to talk to Hanson privately before they started their search. He rubbed the bridge of nose with his thumb and forefinger. Why was being a police officer so hard, and why did people like Weckerly have to make it harder?


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" The boy slammed his hand onto the brick wall beside the officer's head.

Tom continued to ignore the verbal assault, keeping his eyes alert for a young girl, dark curly hair, cute face. So far the only girls he had seen on this street were prostitutes and hookers, all of which were not very cute at all. Some didn't even have hair and wore obvious wigs, making them even less appealing if that were possible. Tom found it exceedingly difficult to believe that Noreen would hang out around a place like this, where even the homeless people got robbed on a regular basis.

Even the boy in front of him seemed a little nervous, but he was eager to show his pack of mindless wolves that he could take care of any insolent kid on HIS turf, so his fear was being masked by fury. Tom knew this kid didn't have the balls to make the first punch, unless he was goaded on by the group of three behind him. Even then, though, Tom would win and either have to fight the other three or become their leader.

But right now, he wasn't trying to accomplish either. He just wanted to know where the hell Noreen was. Once he found that out, he would be out of there and on to more pleasant things.

It had rained earlier that night, and the streets reflected the lights from the alluring neon signs of hole-in-the-wall bars and otherwise apathetic convenient stores. Even the clerks there didn't bother with trying to get customers, since most of them barely made it out of the store before losing their newly purchased items to a pick-pocketer, or a more abrasive robbery at gun point. Almost all had stopped bothering to even come down this street, going through as many back roads as it took to avoid the place altogether. Tom had wondered several times why the force didn't do anything to clean it up down here, but each time he thought about the lack of police, an eerie feeling of loneliness overcame him and he had to avert his attention back to staring at the same people as he waited for Noreen's appearance.

Tom had done his best to blend in to the night life at this particular part of town, wearing his hair down over his eyes, with a sleeveless muscle shirt and low pants. He was beginning to stink, thanks to Doug's health plan consisting of a no-shower, all-taco diet. Tom had been apalled at the stench, and now preferred the smell of the other boy's armpit in his face to that of his own body odor. Poor hygeine was never a problem in Tom's younger years, of course.

The boy slammed the wall again with his hand and snarled. Tom didn't look up, though he could guess that the look across the boy's face was a mix between scared shitless and indignant rage. However, he still didn't seem like too much of a threat, even with the three behind him, cheering him on. They all smelled of marijuana, and a couple had half-bottles of beer in their hands, not concerned about being caught drinking underage or smoking illegal substances.

His attention was pulled to the corner where a different face had appeared, and it took a few moments to collect his thoughts and get past the dirty outer layer to finally realize who he was looking at. He wanted to scream out and wave her down, but he and Doug had discussed the plan. Still, he couldn't help but feel extreme remorse at Noreen's change in appearance. Her hair was uncombed and had dreaded in some places, and the clothes she wore made it difficult to separate her from the whores standing on the curb. Her mid-drift was showing from the torn shirt cut WAY too low, in Tom's opinion, and the jeans could have been painted on her skin they were so tight. She was stumbling down the sidewalk in high-heels, and bruises were evident on the visible skin even from across the street.

He watched her until she disappeared again around the opposite corner. Hands already in his pockets, it was easy for him to send the signal to Doug via cell phone. It would be a minute before he'd get out of there, but now he could focus on the four guys now throwing insults and cursing at him. He finally turned his eyes up at the boy in front of him, remaining silent but throwing a condescending smirk at him. Tom could imagine smoke shooting out of the guy's ears at this point.

"Show this motherfucker who's boss," one of the guy's shouted, and hoots and hollers from the rest of them exemplified their agreement.

The boy glanced back before sighing. "Boy, I haven't seen you around here before-"

Tom interrupted. "Well, I haven't seen you around here before either, so it looks like we're even."

The boy smiled and shook his head. "Funny guys around here don't last very long, boy, so I'd shut my mouth if I were you-"

Tom added in a mutter, "I'm sure you would..."

The boy heard it, but it was obvious the others didn't. The boy didn't say anything about it, but his voice did get more threatening. "...Unless you want your ass kicked."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "And who's going to kick it? You?" He chuckled. "I thought you said funny guys didn't last long around here."

This pushed the boy over the edge, and without thinking, he threw a punch with his free hand. Tom was faster though, and ducked under the boy's arm at the last second, letting the fist connect with the rough brick. Without wasting a second, Tom threw his own punch at the boy's exposed ribs. Not surprisingly, the boy went down fast, holding his side with a bleeding hand.

He turned his attention to the other three, not at all surprised at how quickly he had disposed of the first. They were stunned that their leader had been taken down in such an embarrassingly quick manner, and two of them seemed unsure of what to do next. However, the third, and ironically enough, the biggest stepped forward and grabbed Tom by the shirt, taking the thin cloth into his fists. He easily picked the officer up and slammed him against the wall, holding him high enough that Tom's toes only just touched the ground. He did the best to hide the fear in his face, but he was lucky his bangs covered his not-so-blank eyes.

"You little fucker," the boy slurred, hammered but still obviously knowing what he was doing. Tom gripped the boy's wrists to hold himself up as he was slammed a second time against the bricks. He inhaled sharply as the pain shot through his spine, but otherwise he remained stoic to the abuse.

Where the hell was Doug? He was supposed to have been right around the corner, but he was taking forever! Tom wasn't normally an agressive person, nor someone who enjoyed confrontation when it wasn't completely necessary. Now was the time that Tom really preferred a nonconfrontational situation. By the looks of it, however, it didn't seem like he was going to get his wish. Already, the first guy was back up, but hunched over and wheezing. Still, the morale of the group was lifting fast. They had formed a tight circle around Tom, and he was slammed a third time up against the wall, this time taking a nasty hit to the head. HIs vision swam a little as he searched the road desperately for any sign of his partner. "We're gonna teach you some manners, boy," the leader choked out, nodding to the big one who immediately slammed his knee into Tom's groin, then letting him fall to the ground.

A wave of nausea and dizziness coupled with a sharp pain in his kidneys and lower spine were enough to keep him momentarily oblivious to the familiar flash of blue and red lights and the chirp of a cop car alarm as it pulled to the curb. "There a problem here, boys?" Penhall asked through the window of his cruiser.


	5. Chapter 5

At the presence of the police car, all four of Tom's assailants backed away, leaving Tom enough room to struggle to his feet. Meanwhile, the youngest, Tom had guessed, spoke back to the officer. "N-no s-s-sir, no problem here." He was trying his hardest to hide his beer bottle from sight behind his back.

However, the officer wasn't looking at any of them, instead staring straight at the boy coughing and gagging behind them. After a minute, his furrowed brow lifted in surprise. "I don't believe it...Tommy Harris."

Tom froze at the cue, but instead of running, as was the plan, he was in too much pain. Thinking fast, he put on his most arrogant face and said in a mockingly southern drawl, "Howdy, Sheriff Andy."

Doug stared at Tom, and after a moment a wide smile spread across his face. He enjoyed this type of thing more than Tom, and the change in plan sure didn't disappoint him. He turned and calmly stepped out of the car, walking around the hood. All of the other boys backed away from him, a little surprised that Tom was being picked out. "A little late to be out here, don't ya think, Tommy boy?" he asked, shoving him backwards roughly.

Tom hit the wall once again, caught a little off guard. Doug was playing this a little too well. He would have to retaliate to keep the show going. He threw a not-so-fast punch, partly because he wasn't able to throw a K.O. at the moment, and partly because he really didn't want to hit Doug in the first place. His partner easily dodged the fist by leaning back, then threw a hard right of his own. Tom, having his weight thrown forward with the attempted blow, barely had time to react. Doug's knuckle only just managed to graze Tom's chin, but for affect the undercover officer threw his head to the side and stumbled. Doug took the opportunity to grab Tom's arm and pull it behind his back, placing his own forearm on his neck, thus affectively holding Tom face-first against the brick. "Next time you violate parole, you little shit, I'll personally see to it that you'll be in jail until you're thirty."

Tom struggled against the uncomfortable position, but it came off as insubordination and Doug pulled harder. Tom winced and made a mental note to talk to Doug about his undercover tactics. To make it even more sufferable, Doug pulled out the handcuffs and clicked them as tight as he could around Tom's wrists.

Tom went rigid as the memory of being manacled in that awful hospital flooded his mind....

_The pain was excrutiating. The doctor stood over his patient with a malicious twinkle in his eye as he tightened the leather straps even more, making Tom open his mouth in a silent scream. He struggled against the straps in vain, watching the man leave him for a second time. Who knows when he would be back to relieve the unabating pain..._

Doug struggled to hold Tom to the wall as he suddenly had a fit of fighting the restraints. He cried out, much too fierce for the current predicament. He writhed and tried to wrestle out from under the weight of his partner, who was trying his best to calm him down and still maintain cover. "Hanson, calm down. It's me...Hanson!" He whispered in his ear, but it did nothing to calm the restrained officer. Finally, Doug decided the only way to help him was to take him out of the handcuffs, and he couldn't do that with the other boys watching. He pulled Tom off of the wall and managed to push him into the back of the police car, where he thrashed and kicked at the door. Doug nodded to the boys as he hurriedly got in the front seat and sped off. Once they turned the corner, he jumped out and got into the back of the car, fighting his partner as he tried to get to the cuffs. Finally he got the key into the slot and turned, freeing one of Tom's hands. The fit didn't stop, and Doug had to now push his entire weight against the small officer in order to get to the other wrist.

The cuffs fell to the floor of the car, and Doug quickly got out of the back seat to give Tom some room. After his wrists were free, he calmed down and sat against the opposite door, breathing heavily and sweating perfusely. "Tom?" Doug asked softly. When Hanson didn't answer, Doug peeked into the back seat and waited until his partner looked up at him a few seconds later. His eyes were hollow as if he was looking straight through Penhall. "Tom," he said more sternly, and it seemed to get his attention. Immediately, he looked around and breathed a sigh of relief. Doug did the same, entering the vehicle and sitting next to him. "Tom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Tom stopped him abruptly. "Don't tell Fuller about this."

Doug sat in disbelief. "Tom, you had a breakdown for no apparent reason, and you think I should keep this from the Captain? There could be something seriously wrong with you! All I did was put some handcuffs..." He stopped as he saw Tom massaging the scars, and the pieces fell into place. "That's it, you're off this case, man. No way am I letting you do this to yourself when you're not over this. I don't care what the reason is!" He waited for Tom's argument, but instead, Tom was looking out the back window, craning his neck and trying to see something. "Are you even listening to me, Hanson?!" Doug screamed.

"No," Tom replied, and he pushed past Doug out of the police car and looked both ways down the street. "This was where I saw her. She turned this corner right here. She'd have to be walking fast to already be gone...but with those high heels, I don't think so."

"Tom, stop it."

"No...she can't have made it that quickly. She must have gone in one of these buildings," he said, getting more excited as he looked up and down the street.

"Hanson!" Doug yelled, and Tom stopped his frantic searching to look at him. "She could be anywhere by now, why do you think she's here?"

"Because, she came from the other side of the block," he said, quite annoyed that his partner wasn't catching on as fast as he would like him to. "Why would she walk all the way around the block just to get somewhere in twice the time unless she had to be HERE," he said, going back to searching the road.

Doug shook his head. "We're not staying here! I'm taking you back to the station and telling Fuller what happened. I don't give a shit if she was right there screaming for help!"

Suddenly, a blood-curtling scream wreaked through the cold night air. "HELP!" Tom and Doug both froze, looking toward the opposite street where a girl was running out into the road. This time, Tom recognized her immediately. "Noreen!" he yelled, taking off across the asphalt to meet her in the middle. She seemed too scared to recognize the officer, pulling away from him at first. "Noreen, it's me, Tom Hanson!" She looked at him for the first time, then began to cry with relief as she fell into his arms. He held her in a tight embrace. "It's okay, it's okay now. You're safe."

"I wouldn't bet on that." Tom looked up as a man stepped out of the dark crevace between the two buildings Noreen had just run from. In the man's hand was a 9mm, and it was pointed straight at Tom's forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

Doug had pulled his gun in surprise at the initial scream, but had remained behind the car as Tom ran out to meet the teenager. He himself wasn't as excited, since she was indirectly the reason his friend was hurting at the moment. He was actually a little disappointed that she had showed up, still eager to get Tom checked on after that fit.

He sighed and leaned against the side of the car, rubbing the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. He heard some soft talking, but assumed it was just his partner soothing the poor girl down...Why did Tom always have to play the good guy? He never thought about himself when there were others in danger, one of the reasons he was such a good police officer but such a miserable person. Doug thought that in their time of knowing each other, he could have at least instilled some selfishness in the guy, but no, Tom had to be the unfailingly nice person that he always was. Doug disliked it frankly, one because it made Tom unhappy, and two because in comparison, it made Doug look bad.

"Put the gun down," he heard, and he was jerked back to reality with a sick feeling. He quickly turned, not thinking about staying hidden, and propped the gun up on the roof of the vehicle, searching and quickly finding the perpetrator Tom had asserted his authority on unsuccessfully.

Doug knew that Tom's cover didn't allow for a weapon, but even defenseless as he was, he seemed confident as he stepped around Noreen to put himself between her and the weapon. "I'm a police officer," he said, reaching slowly for his pocket, where Doug knew there was at least a badge.

"Don't you fuckin' move!" The guy yelled, stepping forward threateningly. Noreen yelped and tried to hide herself even more behind Tom.

The officer stopped and raised his hands to signal that he was complying. "Okay," he said in a quiet but firm voice.

It was at exactly this moment, when the man with the gun sneered at Tom in a menacing manner, that Doug realized he had no idea he was there. He was half-hidden by the car, and it was a little dark. Unless he moved, there was no way the guy would become any more the wiser to his presence. This could prove helpful. Tom seemed to think so as well, not hinting at his partner's existence.

The good thing about being friends with his partner was the quick, wordless communication between the two of them. He knew Tom so well that he could pretty much quote what was going on in the guy's head, and Tom could probably do the same with him. Right now Hanson was thinking about how he could get the guy calm enough to lower his weapon for a split second, knowing that Doug was thinking the second the guy lowered his weapon he'd take a shot at him. That was why going undercover as the McQuaid brothers worked so well, since they were really like brothers. They spent more time together than Doug had actually spent with his own little brother.

"You don't look like a narc...Why you protectin' this whore?" he asked, stepping forward again and holding the gun further out in front of him.

This made Tom visibly angry. He straightened up, leveled his shoulders, and clenched his jaw. "Don't call her a whore," he said through his teeth.

"What?" He cocked his head to the side, surprised he was getting back talk from someone at gun point. "Oh, I see. Would you prefer the term 'slut'? Or maybe 'hooker'?"

Doug slowly cocked his gun, looking straight down his arm, down the barrel, all the way to the man's chest. Hanson, just don't do anything stupid, he thought, praying that his partner played this one carefully so the guy didn't get crazy with the gun.

Tom was getting angrier by the second, but luckily he did have enough self-control to remain passive this time. The man walked forward slowly and place the barrel right onto Tom's temple. "I'll call that bitch whatever I want to, and you're not going to do a damned thing about it," he spat, before slamming the butt of it into the officer's forehead.

Tom fell forward, losing consciousness for a fraction of a second. But in that small amount of time, several things happened. A gun fired, there was a scream, and a pool of blood was growing quickly around Tom's head. Panic, then calm, as he realized, _I've been shot._

_

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_**Thanks to everyone for keeping up with the story. Unfortunately, the next update will not be for a few days. I'm sorry, but life calls. If I get a chance before then, I'll try my best to get it up, but I doubt that will happen. Be patient, and give feedback! I enjoy reading your reviews, and they help me with story ideas. Keep them coming!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Hanson...TOM! You okay, man?" Doug's worried voice lacked the due urgency Tom thought belonged there. I've been shot, of course I'm not okay, he thought calmly. Oddly enough, he was at peace with this fact. Sure he was young, but he'd fulfilled his dream of becoming an officer like his father and carrying on his legacy. It was a bit ironic that he'd die this way, the same way his father died, in his own blood. He wondered if his father's last thoughts were of him as his last thoughts were of his father.

Did coherent thought always flow so smoothly when half of one's brain was blown out? Doug's feet jogged across his vision as he approached. "Tommy, can you hear me?"

Tom wanted to nod, to do something to acknowledge that he wasn't a vegetable just yet, that he wasn't dead.

A thought occured to him. One shot was fired, just one. Why would his partner run out into the open if the gunman was still wielding a weapon? Slowly and deliberately Tom lifted his head and turned it slightly, meeting the sight of a gaping abdominal bullet-hole inches from his nose. It spurted a little bit of blood, and Tom jumped back, sitting up and wiping the other man's blood from the side of his face. Already a radius on the asphalt of a foot or two in blood surrounded the two of them, more than enough for a man to bleed to death from. From the second the officer laid eyes on the man's glazed stare into nothing, he knew the man was dead.

His sleeve ran over the cut on his forehead, and he winced as he dabbed the area again, glad that the foreign blood hadn't made contact with the open wound from being struck with the gun. Since the raise in awareness of the AIDS virus, back when he was the bodyguard of the poor hemopheliac boy with a blood transfusion gone wrong, he had been afraid of getting it.

The smell of copper was strong, and Hanson figured part of his queeziness would subside once he got away from all of the blood. He was right, for once he stood and walked over to his partner and Noreen, he felt a little better.

The teenager lunged forward the moment he was in reach, clasping onto the officer's arm and crying hysterically. Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close and trying to keep her from shaking due to the shock. "Hi," he said softly, and she managed to laugh a little as she replied, "Hi."

Doug rolled his eyes, and Tom shot him a warning look. He pulled Noreen off of him far enough to look at her in the face. "Are you okay?" She hesitated before nodding, tears rolling down the sticky streams on her face. "Doug, I'll go put her in the cruiser, she needs to sit down," he concluded after examining her for a minute. "Hey, give me your jacket." His partner obliged, though it seemed with a hint of reluctance. Tom wondered what the hell was wrong with his partner, but took the jacket and wrapped it around the girl as they headed to the car. Doug just waved them off, walking around the dead man to check his pulse, though he too knew he was already dead.

Tom sat Noreen in the passenger seat, squatting on the curb as she cozied up against the cushioned seat. Once she seemed comfortable, Tom looked down as he asked, a little shamefully, "Noreen, do you know why that guy was trying to kill you?" She didn't give an audible answer, so he looked up. She was staring worriedly at a spot on the pavement.

After a long silence, she exhaled shakily. "He...He always pays me, but tonight he didn't want to."

Tom knew the answer before he asked, but it was procedure. "What does he pay you for, Noreen?" She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, and Tom could tell it was hard for her to keep her head. He extended a hand and took her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. "It's okay, I'm here to help. You can tell me."

This encouraged her, and she told him everything: that she was a prostitute, and the man's name was Eric Foley. He was a regular, always came to meet her, but this time she went to meet him. He trapped her, threatened not to pay, and tried to rape her. "When I finally got away, I ran into you and...." He knew what happened from there.

He couldn't find any words to say to her. It was all such a shock for him to learn that such a beautiful and smart girl like Noreen had fallen so fast and hard. In a way, he felt partly responsible. Should he have been there for her after her brother's death? The funeral was the last time he had seen her. Maybe if he had kept contact, she wouldn't have felt so alone.

She seemed to have this tremendous weight lift off of her after her story, and even had a few sips from Doug's water bottle. Tom figured he wouldn't mind, but with the way Doug was acting, he could be wrong. "Alright, you wait here. I promise, I'll be right back." Noreen grabbed his wrist as he stood to walk away.

"Thank you, Officer Hanson," she said in a quiet voice.

"Tom," he said, smiling. She dropped his hand, returning the grin. He walked over to his partner, who was kneeling over the body searching for some I.D. "His name is Eric Foley," Tom informed him, and Doug sighed exasperatedly. "I just spent the last five minutes searching this guy, and then you come over here with a name. Please don't tell me you two know each other."

Tom scrunched up his nose. "Of course not. Noreen told me." He would leave the part about prostitution out of it. Doug was already against the teenager, and an excuse to arrest her right now was the last thing he wanted to give him.

Doug nodded as he stood. "I already radioed in, and they are sending a forensics team and some backup to take over while I get you two to the hospital." He looked sternly at Tom, like a father scolding a child. "And don't you even think about arguing. That's a nasty cut, and who knows what kinds of diseases this guy's blood has in it." Tom scrunched up his nose in disgust and the two walked back to the police car to wait.


	8. Chapter 8

Tom hated hospitals: the cold corridors, the monotonous beeping of the heart monitors. And worst of all, the doctors and nurses worried too much over their patients, treating them like toddlers.

Doug clapped childishly as the elderly nurse handed him a juice box. he was sitting on the counter in his partner's hospital room, swinging his legs like a little boy. Judy and Ioki had rushed to Tom's side as soon as Fuller had called them, and the Captain himself stood at the foot of the bed as they all watched Doug slurp at the straw noisily.

"You do realize, Penhall, that we're here for Hanson. So as soon as you're done bothering his nurse with your important needs," (at this point he jerked the box away from a shocked Doug), "Then maybe they can get back to caring for the actual patient!"

Doug folded his arms and stared murderously at Fuller, who completely ignored the angered officer and waited for the nurse, who was avoiding looking at him in fear of another outburst, to read through the chart. After a drawn-out silence, she finally put the papers down and said, "Well, Officer Hanson, everything looks fine. You don't have a concussion, and the wound wasn't too deep. I think the only things needed were the stitches. The doctor will be in here shortly to do one final check before we release you." She lowered her head as she passed the Captain but winked as she passed Doug.

"Looks like someone has a hot date," Ioki sneered.

Judy was not conforted in the least by the nurse's encouraging words, and shot Tom a side-glance of worry which didn't go unnoticed.

"I promise, I'm fine," he shouted for the fourth time, trying to drive the fact into everyone's head once and for all. It did just the opposite, however, since the loud noise accompanied by the strain made him scowl in response to the protest from his headache.

Judy raised her eyebrows in concern. "Yeah, Hanson, you look like you feel swell," she said cynically.

In fact, he didn't look swell at all. The hospital gown covered him like an oversized shirt, his hair was a mess, at least more than usual, since he had gone into the OR, and the large gauze patch on his eyebrow didn't cover the entirety of the bruise covering most of his forehead and the corner of his eye.

Fuller cleared his throat. "Let's get down to business here." He stared momentarily at the floor as he collected his thoughts. "Ioki...any leads on your case?"

He shrugged. "I've done everything but snap the cuffs on him and read him his rights. It's looking like an open and shut case, if you ask me."

Fuller nodded approvingly, then turned to Hanson. "Did the girl tell you anything about this guy, or why he was trying to kill her?"

Hanson looked around the room hesitantly. "Well...Noreen said that she was attacked by this guy, whose name was...Eric Foley, I think? Anyway, he tried to rape her, and she fought her way away from him. That's when she ran into us, and...well, you know the rest."

Judy had a look of horror, and Ioki shook his head solemnly. Penhall, however, was the only one that made a sound, an incredulous chuckle almost too soft to hear.

Tom stared hard at his friend as Fuller asked, "You got a problem, Penhall?"

Penhall looked up at the four of them looking at him, and his smile faded. "No, no...it's just..." He stammered as he tried to explain himself.

Tom didn't care to wait for him to think of an excuse. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he said angrily, knowing sure enough that Doug had been weird about the whole Noreen situation to begin with. He was acting like a jerk, and Tom wasn't going to let him get away with it anymore.

Doug immediately took an indignant defense. "It's not rape if she sells it to him."

Tom sat up, fury dominating his features. "You don't know ANYTHING about her!" he screamed, ignoring the pain. "What gives you the right-"

"No, what gives YOU the right?" Doug screamed back, standing up and pointing violently at him. "You have to stop and think, Hanson! She's a prostitute, I know it and you know it! She doesn't want help, she won't accept help!"

Tom didn't falter a bit, though Doug was an intimidating opponent. "How do YOU know?! You've never met her before!"

"Hanson, that girl you knew a year ago is gone! She's changed, and you don't want to accept it!" His voice grew calmer. "Think about it...How did she know the man's name? You think he said, 'Hi, my name is Eric, I'll be sexually assaulting you today'?"

Tom was livid now. Yes, he knew that Noreen was now a prostitute, but the fact that Doug had assumed it set his insides on fire. "I'm not going to let you talk about her like that," he warned, on the verge of lifting himself out of the bed.

Fuller had let them argue, but now that it seemed it was going to get physical he stepped in. "Enough. Penhall, until we find out for sure, I think you should keep your own feelings to yourself...And Hanson, I think you need to live with the possibility that Ms. Weckerly has changed, whether you like it or not."

Penhall shuffled his feet and breathed hard, but said nothing else. He knew he was right about the girl, but the truth would come out soon enough. It wasn't worth getting everybody angry. Besides, he didn't know why he had so much prejudice toward the girl. It might have been the unlawfulness of her actions, except he was used to all of that by now and had learned not to blame someone for bad circumstances. Little did he know that his subconscience was exhibiting an extreme fit of jealousy and worry for his partner that would continue until Tom stopped torturing himself and the Weckerlys disappeared for good this time.

Tom's subconscience was different altogether. It was restless and protective of Noreen, and right now it seemed his partner was working against that urge to defend Noreen's actions. Therefore, Tom was outrageously upset with his parnter and he wasn't exactly sure why. He blamed it on Doug having figured out Noreen's secret, how he had judged her so fast, but he knew that if he was in Doug's shoes, he probably would have come to the same conclusion. It still gave him no comfort in knowing this, but he did calm down enough to follow the Captain's orders and bite his tongue.

When the doctor walked in, everyone was silent, averting their eyes from each other and barely acknowledging his presence. "Tough room," he commented as he picked up the chart and read through everything. "Well, Officer Hanson, everything seems to be in order. Those stitches will have to stay in for a few weeks, and you need to keep it covered for the majority of that time to prevent infection and all that good stuff. Other than that, I think you're free to go."

"Thanks, Doc," he said simply, flashing a half-hearted smile at the man.

"No problem, it's my job. Apparently, we both take ours very seriously." With that, he nodded farewell to the others and opened the door.

A nurse almost bowled him over as she ran into the room. "Captain Fuller, please don't be upset, we did follow your orders and everything..."

Everyone became alarmed at her entrance and rushed speech, and they all turned to watch her warily. The doctor stopped in the doorway to see what the problem was. Fuller furrowed his brow. "What is it, nurse?" he asked calmly, keeping himself from getting excited.

She frowned, obviously upset as she explained, "Noreen Weckerly is gone!"


End file.
